Centre Court
by Jyra
Summary: Pillar Pair// The Pro Circuit can be lonely but luckily they have each other. Chapter 9: Madrid
1. Centre Court

Centre Court

_**Centre Court**_

_**By: Jyra **_

_**Disclaimer: Do not own Prince of Tennis. If I did, I wouldn't be writing this. Instead I'd be laughing about how I've created one of the best mangas in the world…**_

**Written to celebrate the French Opens.**

**Slight pillar pair. **

_Sometimes Ryoma wonders why he isn't playing centre court today._

_**.X.**_

'Game, Nadal'

The French robot announced over the speaker system.

The stadium was packed with people of all nationalities. Luckily the previous couple of day's rain had held off and the sun was shining brightly for the men's finals of the French Open, the Roland Garros.

The match was one that would go down in history. Not only would it be Nadal's 6th French Open title if he won, but the level of play was…well the only word for it was beautiful. The crowd could feel the electricity bouncing off the two players as they faced each other in battle.

Somewhere in the crowd, Echizen Ryoma too drank in the atmosphere, if only so he could criticise later. The heat of the day meant that he could get away with the huge sunglasses that hid most of his face without too many questions. If the spectators around him knew who he was, it would no doubt lead to yet more questions as to why he wasn't the one playing centre court today. Sometimes Ryoma wondered too.

It had been a great shock to the world of tennis when young pro Echizen Ryoma, last year's winner of Wimbledon, announced he would not be entering the men's singles French Opens. Most of his old team mates, whom he still saw regularly, had tried their hardest to talk him out of his decision, but Ryoma had stood firm. Still, at the time they had been the only ones to know the really reasons for his non entry, sans Nanjiroh who just smirked when he heard. The rest of the tennis world had been left to speculate. It wasn't the Ryoma couldn't play on clay, he had proved that he was versatile on any surface when he'd come second in the Hamburg Masters, only losing in the tie break to a certain former captain of his.

It was match point now and the crowd had hushed. The normal clapping that built up to the final serve was gone. Instead the audience had been struck dumb. They were waiting. Waiting for the moment of a lifetime. Waiting for a beautiful finish, a powerful groundstroke, a smash or maybe a drop shot. Ryoma too was waiting. Waiting to see if he could have done better, though already in his mind he had confirmed that he could.

'Ryoma!'

On hearing his name, Ryoma instinctively turned to the source of the voice which had come from just behind him.

There, standing behind him was Tezuka Kunimitsu. He was dressed in tennis clothes, black and dark blue, and held his practise racket in his hand. Although to the average passer by his face looked expressionless, Ryoma could see the slight frown that creased his features but also the amusement his eyes held, as if to tell Ryoma that Tezuka had known he was here all along.

And then suddenly the crowd had come alive again. Ryoma didn't need to turn around to know what had happened but he did anyway. The game had been won. Nadal now held the French Open title for the 6th consecutive year. Oh well, Ryoma knew that would change next year.

'Ryoma. You should have been practising…'

Ryoma knew it was time to leave. Squeezing past the old Spanish man who was too busy celebrating to register the young tennis player, Ryoma took the hand that Tezuka offered.

As they walked away hand in hand, Ryoma turned back to the centre court, not with longing but because tomorrow he would be playing there. Only tomorrow he'd be playing in the men's double finals. With Tezuka. And he knew they'd win it. Because really, that was what they had been doing since junior high.

Sometimes Ryoma wonders why he isn't playing centre court today. But then he looks at his doubles partner and knows exactly why.

**_.X._**

_**Hope that wasn't too bad. Fist prince of Tennis fic but had to write this because I've been watching the Roland Garros. I suppose it's not too hard to guess that my favourite player is Rafa Nadal is it?**_


	2. London Calling

_**London Calling**_

_**By: Jyra **_

_**Disclaimer: Do not own Prince of Tennis. If I did, I wouldn't be writing this. Instead I'd be laughing about how I've created one of the best mangas in the world…**_

**So I decided to not make this a one shot anymore but to write a new chapter for each major and minor tennis tournament as they happen. So this fic will follow the tennis world for a year recounting Tezuka and Ryoma's life as pros! As some of you may have guessed, this one is for the Artois Championship. As I write this, the quarter finals have only just finished but hopefully I'll publish this before the finals!**

**Slight pillar pair. **

**.X.**

Ryoma would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy the applause of the crowd as he stepped onto the court. However, all the fans in the world meant nothing if he couldn't find that one person in the sea of faces. Ryoma walked to the net, wishing his opponent a good game before taking his position at the base line, awaiting Roddick's serve.

It wouldn't be an easy game, Ryoma knew that. Roddick had won the Artois Championships four times, last year included. It was seen as the best warm up for Wimbledon and symbolised the end of the clay season and the start of the grass. It was true grass was Ryoma's preferred surface but it was also Roddick's.

It felt good to be playing singles again but as Ryoma returned the serve with a strong groundstroke, he couldn't help feeling a little lonely. He'd grown use to sharing his court with someone else, even if he supposed singles might be his first and true calling.

Of course Ryoma might have felt differently if he had been the one to make the decision to play in singles instead of doubles for this tournament. Instead it had been made for him. And somehow, Ryoma couldn't help but feel that his place in the finals of the Artois Championships, or at least his opponent's had not been fairly earned. How could it be when Tezuka wasn't playing? True, this tournament wasn't one that the top ten always entered but in Ryoma's mind, it was his fault Tezuka had not been able to take part.

The injury had happened in the French Opens final. They had won of course but it hadn't been easy and into the second set, Tezuka had stumbled covering for Ryoma. He'd brushed it off as nothing but Ryoma could see it was more than a bruise. Yet Tezuka's determination to win had pulled them through and it was only as they walked to collect the trophy that Tezuka's limp became obvious. He'd received medical attention straight away and it hadn't been anything career threatening, Ryoma had been glad to hear, but it had meant a short break for competitive tennis if Tezuka was to have any chance of playing in Wimbledon. Which was why Ryoma had registered as a singles player for the Artois Championships instead of the doubles as had originally been intended.

Although Tezuka had insisted that it wasn't his fault, Ryoma still felt guilty for his partner's injury. If only he hadn't needed Tezuka to cover for him, they could have been playing doubles. Or at least playing against each other in the final. Instead, Tezuka was sitting in the stands, watching Ryoma play. He'd been there every match, always waiting to offer congratulations, advice and improvements. Which, if anything, made Ryoma feel even worse about the whole deal.

'Game, set and match, Echizen'

It was over. Ryoma looked to the stands where he knew Tezuka would be sitting but his eyes only came to rest on an empty seat surrounded by member of the cheering crowd. Ryoma tried to mask the disappointment in his eyes as his shook first Roddick's hand and then the umpire's. Ryoma knew Tezuka would have a reason for not staying till the end but still…

After the compulsory signing of the camera and a quick word for the BBC, Ryoma headed off to the changing rooms, his mind only focussing on two things: a hot shower and Tezuka.

Of course, he wasn't expected to find both in the same place, but there was Tezuka, waiting patiently in the changing room, sitting next to Ryoma's kit. Ryoma couldn't help but smile, even if Tezuka's face stayed exactly the same. Though he did move to embrace the younger boy and, even if Ryoma couldn't see Tezuka's face at that point, he liked to imagine his former captain was smiling.

'Sorry I missed the last set. I had a doctor's appointment'

Tezuka stated, releasing Ryoma and sitting back down as Ryoma proceeded to peel off his tennis clothes.

'Oh?'

Ryoma didn't turn to face Tezuka, knowing if he did, his face would betray the hope that was swelling up in his stomach. A moment's silence elapsed before Tezuka continued.

'I've been given the all clear. We can play doubles again in time for Wimbledon. That's if, you still want to.'

Ryoma didn't think that question warranted a verbal answer. Instead, he bent down and placed a light kiss on Tezuka's lips, letting the elder know everything he needed too.

**.X.**

_**Well that's the Artois Championships written! Hope you liked it. I'm not sure if Roddick will be in the finals but it is most likely so I chose him! **_


	3. Grass is for Cows

London Calling

_**Grass is for cows**_

_**By: Jyra **_

_**Disclaimer: Do not own Prince of Tennis. If I did, I wouldn't be writing this. Instead I'd be laughing about how I've created one of the best mangas in the world…**_

**And this one is for Wimbledon. Did anyone watch the match yesterday? I watched I all so it took up most of the day! How fantastic was it though?? Anyway, I'm at summer school starting tomorrow so not sure how much time I'll have to write. Next update might be for The US Opens!**

**Pillar pair. **

_It's Monday morning and somewhere in a London apartment a boy lies curled up in a crumpled duvet upon a king size bed._

_The curtains aren't drawn and sunlight streams through into the airy room. Next to the boy is an old cat. The cat stretches and the boy's eyelids flutter as the cat rearranges herself but he doesn't wake. Instead, the 19 year old mumbles something inaudible and rolls over, nearly squishing the cat in the process. _

_From the en suite, the sound of a shower can be heard and the alarm clock aluminates the time- 10am. All is prefect- in short it is the perfect morning after._

'Ryoma'

Tezuka gently shook the younger boy's shoulders. However, Ryoma didn't stir. Tezuka sighed quietly to himself. He had been up since 6am. A quick jog, email to his manager informing her of his decision to take a couple of days off and then a shower. Now fully dressed, he sat next to the younger boy, stroking his hair. Ryoma was always like this after a big tournament and yesterday had been the biggest.

They had both entered the doubles and the singles category of Wimbledon, both hoping for at least one title. Of course the men's singles draws had put then on opposite sides, leading to the inevitable clash in the final. Not that Tezuka minded. The best finals were the ones he played against Ryoma. It wasn't that the other players weren't up to his standard, there were. There was just something thrilling about playing your lover on centre court in front of thousands of strangers.

The doubles finale on Saturday had gone well. It had been an easier match than both of them expected and then had won in 3 hours, only dropping one set in the tie break. It had been brilliant to stand out there next to Ryoma, holding the trophy and knowing they had won because they played together, because they believed in each other, because they were a team. Just like in the old days. All their friends and old rivals had been there to watch, including Atobe who was now officially their sponsor (Ryoma had taken quite a lot of persuading to agree to that…) and the Golden pair.

Kikumaru hadn't changed a bit and proceeded to inform Ryoma after the match that if he and Oishi had been fit to play, they never would have won the title. Ryoma had just smirked and all their former team-mates knew that was a challenge for the US Opens doubles title. But however confident Ryoma was, Tezuka had a bad feeling that Kikumaru may have been correct, He and Ryoma were predominantly singles players and up against a dedicated doubles team, they might find themselves cracking.

Of course the singles had been more of a challenge. It always was when they played each other. Over the years, their skill level had become almost identical, although they play style wasn't. Yesterday's crowd had anticipated a drawn out match packed with awe inspiring tennis and they hadn't been disappointed. These were two young men at the top of their game. The outcome had come down to the last point, with both fighting tooth and nail to take home the championship, Ryoma for the second year running and Tezuka for the first time.

Tezuka was jolted out of his thoughts of yesterday by Ryoma stirring next to him. The younger boy sleepily opened one eyes and started up at Tezuka before reaching out and puling Tezuka down to join him on the bed.

'Ryoma, it's already 10.30'

'Don't care'

Was the only answer Tezuka received as Ryoma wrapped his body around him and snuggled into his chest, intent on falling back asleep.

'Ryoma?'

Tezuka asked. Ryoma turned his head slightly and opened one eye to indicate he was listening.

'Ryoma, aren't you upset at losing yesterday?'

Ryoma's smirk might have been more effective, Tezuka told himself, if said boy wasn't draped across him.

'Che, buchou, grass is for cows…'

Ad Tezuka really didn't need to remind Ryoma that if grass was for cows, then Ryoma had been one since last year…

**Anyway, hope that one is ok. Any I'll see you all for the US Opens!**


	4. Preparations

_**Preparations **_

_**By: Jyra **_

_**Disclaimer: Do not own Prince of Tennis. If I did, I wouldn't be writing this. Instead I'd be laughing about how I've created one of the best mangas in the world…**_

_Yes, I know I said I would write the next one for the US Opens but hey, I have time off so this is for the Canadian Opens (Roger Cup). Anyway, thanks to all the people who have put my story on their alerts list- it means a lot to me! _

**Pillar pair. **

Ryoma scowled as he poked his wrist, feeling a slight pain shoot up through his arm. It wasn't fair, he wanted to yell but even for him that was a little too childish. Instead he settled for tapping his foot impatiently on the tiled floor as he waited outside the players changing rooms. Every so often, a player would exit or enter depending on when their match was for the day, many of them sending him a look of sympathy, surprise or the more petty ones, gloating. Ryoma glared back at them all, although the cap pulled over his eyes meant they probably couldn't tell.

It wasn't his fault, Ryoma told himself. It had been…Momo's fault. Yes, Ryoma told himself, it was all Momo's fault. Although he would have preferred to pin the blame somehow on Atobe, the diva had been in Paris when Ryoma had tripped over the water bottle and therefore even the most elaborate story couldn't justify Atobe's involvement in the incident. Momo, however, had only been a couple of feet away and therefore in the perfect position for Ryoma to blame, despite the fact that it had been his (Ryoma's) water bottle.

So that was the reason why Ryoma, instead of playing in the hard-court Canadian tournament was busy waiting for Tezuka to finally exit the changing rooms (just how long did take one person to change? It never normally took him this long. Ryoma knew he was doing it just to piss him off. Yes, that must be it), his mood getting worse and worse with every passing minute.

It wasn't that the situation was desperately bad. After all, in the last couple of months, Ryoma had won the doubles title at the French, the title at Queens and been the runner up in Wimbledon. So one missed tournament shouldn't matter that much. Still, he was painfully aware of the ranking, and the world number two knew that the number 3 wasn't particularly far behind him and would be even less if he gained the 500 ranking points that came with winning this tournament. of course, Ryoma told himself, the only reason why Tezuka was ranked number one in the world instead of him was because he has been on tour for a couple of years longer and had had more time to amass points. Because of course, there was no way anyone, even his boyfriend, was a better player than him….

The doubles title at the Roland Garros hadn't added to his singles ranking and whilst coming second at Wimbledon was good, it wasn't winning… and now having to sit out of a vital warm up tournament….

Although the world's press hadn't said anything about the Prince of Tennis's not quite on par run, Ryoma knew he would have to do well in the coming tournaments to silence any critics that might be threatening o come up, even if by normal tennis player's standards his year had been anything short of fantastic.

Ryoma was not normally one to worry. But there was a first for everything and his arrogant nature meant that he had to take it out on someone. Unfortunately for Tezuka, he was the person closest to Ryoma, and therefore bore the brunt of the boy's current bad temper.

Which was at the moment threatening to boil over as Ryoma waited for his boyfriend to exit the changing rooms. If it had been anyone else, he would have left already.

'Ryoma.'

Hearing his name, Ryoma glared up from under his cap to find Tezuka standing next to him. Scowling he stalked off in the direction of their hotel, expecting Tezuka to follow him.

If Tezuka had been anyone else, he would have sighed. However, Tezuka was not anyone else and Tezuka did not show expression let alone sigh. So instead, he frowned slightly and walked after Ryoma, making sure to leave a couple of feet in between them. It didn't bothered Tezuka too much that Ryoma hadn't even asked him about his semi final match (he'd won, straight sets). After all, Tezuka knew Ryoma was prone to sulking if he couldn't participate in a tournament and he was lucky that Ryoma had even agreed to come and watch.

It was a silent trip back to the hotel and when they arrived at their room, Ryoma proceeded to throw himself onto the bed, apparently falling straight asleep. Tezuka didn't mind. Above all, he himself had to be rested for the final tomorrow and maybe if they both slept for a while now, they could go out for dinner later, though only if Ryoma was in a better mood. Pulling his shoes off and settling down besides Ryoma, Tezuka carefully wrapped one arm around his boyfriend's waist, hoping the boy wouldn't wake up and snap at him. Just as he got himself settled, he felt Ryoma stir in his arms and mumble into his chest

'I'm not playing doubles with you at the US Opens.'

'Of course'

Tezuka replied as Ryoma' breathing became more even. Tezuka wasn't quite sure what Ryoma felt he still had to prove but as he drifted off to sleep he wondered if maybe Ryoma hadn't changed much from middle school after all…

_**.X.**_

_**I feel a little bad for making Ryoma play worse than Tezuak for the last couple of chapters… But he can't win all the time right? Soon I'm going to go back to writing happier chapters but just to warn you, the next one probably one be that happy. It won't be angst but… Oh well, I guess you'll just have to read it when it comes out!**_


	5. Sportsmanship

_**Sportsmanship **_

_**By: Jyra **_

_**Disclaimer: Do not own Prince of Tennis. If I did, I wouldn't be writing this. Instead I'd be laughing about how I've created one of the best mangas in the world…**_

_Sorry this instalment is a little late but I blame it on the rain! Brilliant US Opens this year. Also sorry for not writing a chapter for Cincinnati and the Olympics. I was on holiday for both but was very happy the Murray won his first Masters and Rafa got to number 1!_

_Oh and I know the lay out is a little odd for this one but I wanted to try something different! _

_**Pillar Pair**_

**_..._**

_A week ago…_

_Game point_

_Break point_

_Another game point_

_A break back_

_Double break point_

_Serving for the set_

_Another break point_

_Set Point_

_2__nd__ set point_

_3__rd__ set point_

_Match point_

_2nd round match: A. Murray (6) bt R. Echizen (2) 3 sets to love_

**Day 11: Thursday Quarterfinal match: K. Tezuka (1) vs. N. Djokovic (3)**

Laurie Carey, rookie reporter for _The Daily Post_ grinned to himself as he flashed his press pass at security. Today was the day. Today was the day he would finally get his interview with Echizen Ryoma. He had all it planned out. He'd had it planned since the second seed had unexpectable dropped out of the tournament last week to the sixth seed, the British number one. Today was the day.

X

Tezuka didn't smile as he readied himself for his match. It was the last Grand Slam event of the year and he was hoping for a win here to add to his one at Wimbledon. At his age, 2 grand slams would be beyond expectations but his ranking suggested differently. When you're the world number one it was what was expected of you.

X

In the stands Echizen Ryoma didn't smile or even smirk. He fumed. On his lap lay a newspaper, the headline mocking him. It wasn't fair and this time it was all his own fault. He'd let himself down, he'd let his father down, he'd let Tezuka down and he felt like he'd let the rest of the world down too. He hadn't lived up to expectations. He'd failed. At 19 years old, he was now the world number three.

X

Laurie hoisted his bag over an elderly couple, apologising as he made his way over to the south side of the Louis Armstrong court. A quick scan of the crowd identified his target. He was there, just as expected.

X

He walked out to the applause of the crowd. He didn't wave, only a nod of the head indicated he even knew of their existence. Yet they still loved him. How could then not? He himself had once said the best players had a special type of charisma and Tezuka Kunimitsu was the best player in the world.

X

Ryoma continued to start at the paper on his lap, glad his sunglasses and absent cap seemed to disguise he appearance well enough. He read the headline again _'Prince falls to number 3' _before shoving the offending paper on the floor. He vowed to himself he would never see a headline like that again.

X

Laurie took the seat next to his target. The target hadn't seemed to notice him. Not yet at least. Laurie discreetly checked the press photo he'd been given. Yes, he was sure. It was now.

X

Serve. Return. Serve. Return. Then the warm up was over, it was time to start the match. Tezuka readied himself, prepared for the opponent's attack when something made him look to that place in the crowd. The next thing he knew, his opponent scored at ace.

X

Ryoma scowled back. Maybe Tezuka couldn't see him but he'd know he'd be scowling. Better to concentrate on the game now and not let your opponent win easy points. Ryoma wished it was as simple to apply that logic to his own game.

X

Laurie watched as the first set started. The tennis was beautiful but his mind was on the target next to him.

X

Tezuka served for the first set. A backhand; cross court; a slice and then a volley. The set was his.

X

Two sets to go. Ryoma though. Just two. Tennis had always been that simple, why wasn't it anymore?

X

The second set was nearly over. Laurie knew he'd have to take his chance soon. Turning to his left, he touched the shoulder of the dark haired man next to him 'Excuse me …

X

Tezuka served. Djokovic returned. A drop shot. Djokovic was at the net. A lob. Djokovic ran back for the smash. He missed. The ball was called in. Djokovic challenged the call. The big screens replayed the path of the ball as it careered to wards the line. 'Ball called…

X

Ryoma stood up. Tezuka would win he knew it. And Ryoma had a sudden need to play tennis again. Just as he was about to leave, the man to his right turned, touched his shoulder and asked 'Excuse me…

X

'… are you Echizen Ryoma?'

X

'In'

X

'…could you sign this program for my son? He thinks of you as his hero.'

X

Kirihara snarled at the reporter. Why did everyone mistake him for Echizen Ryoma? They didn't even look alike, not really! Why did everyone assume that a black haired Asian tennis player must be Echizen Ryoma?

X

'Game, set and match won by Tezuka.' Tezuka approached the net to shake. This time he didn't look at the crowds, he knew Ryoma would have already gone.

X

As he hit the ball faster, more powerful than he'd ever done before. Ryoma knew everything would be alright. He could feel it in his blood, that same feeling from Junior high. He would take back his number 2 spot. And someday soon he would take the number one as well. He could feel it running through him. The world was his. It always had been.

**_XXX_**

_Not very fluffy this time. And I apologise for making Ryoma lose. But I think the next couple of grand slam events will bear better results for him!_

_A thanks to everyone who has put this on alerts, it means a lot to me._

_I'm not sure when the next update will be, I've got my classic, English lit and history coursework going on plus I've got to apply for uni so I'm sort of busy! _

_But thank you fro reading this and I will update for the next tournament that Nadal and Murray play in!_

_Jyra _


	6. Breaking Serve

_**Breaking Serve**_

_**By: Jyra **_

_**Disclaimer: Do not own Prince of Tennis. If I did, I wouldn't be writing this. Instead I'd be laughing about how I've created one of the best mangas in the world…**_

**Completely behind I know but I've had exams and then Christmas and then more exams and uni stuff and coursework. Yes, I know, no excuse really. So this is a late chapter for the Australian Opens. Very late I know. However, the next chapter will be for Monte Carlo (which I've been watching all week and am currently watching Federer vs. Wawrinka whilst waiting for Murray's match) so that will be up by Monday or Tuesday. After that there will probably only be a few more chapters as I intend to end this on the event I started with- Roland Garros, Anyway, enjoy ******

**.Pillar pair. **

_**.X.**_

_New Year_

_New Passion_

_New Game._

_It was his year. It didn't belong to anyone else apart from him._

_He was still the Prince of Tennis._

_And this was his final._

The changing room was quiet. The only sound came from the faint roar of the crowd, imprisoned behind the double doors. Bending down, Ryoma checked once again his bag. Rackets, spare shirt, grip tape, tennis ball. Smiling slightly, he bent down to pick up the tennis ball.

There was nothing remarkable about it. It wasn't signed by Sampras or Agassi and he hadn't used it to win a title. It was just a small, yellow, fuzzy ball. Ryoma had seen billions of them in his life and played with more than he'd had hot dinners.

It was just a ball.

A ball that symbolised his life.

And perhaps more importantly, his love.

Love, life, tennis. It was all the same really.

XXX

It a separate changing room, Tezuka Kunimitsu also checked his bag. Rechecking it for the final time, he sat down; satisfied that everything was in order.

Picking up the tea cup next to him Tezuka's mind wandered, contemplating his next match. It was a final. A Grand Slam final. The Australian Opens final to be precise.

Having won the tournament two years ago and made it to the semis last year, Tezuka knew he was the favourite to win. And he would play to win. He would walk out onto the court and give it his all.

The world number one sipped the hot tea and hoped that he would lose the game.

XXX

The ball was still in Ryoma's hand when the announcement to take to the courts came. Slowly, he replaced the grip tape, the shirt and the racket into the bag before hoisting it over his shoulder. Only the ball remained, clenched in his fist.

The ball that had been pushed wordlessly into his hand by Tezuka Kunimitsu straight after the world number one had taken the US Opens title. A ball that said they would meet here, that Tezuka would play his best and that he knew Ryoma would too.

A ball that told Ryoma more than any newspaper headline proclaiming his downfall would. Tezuka still believed in him, Japan still believed in him and for most part, so did the world. He was the Prince of Tennis. A Prince who would one day over take the King.

Starting today.

As Tezuka came out onto the bright courts, he heard the roar of the crowd, saw the line of the net, smelt the adrenaline and could taste the electricity.

But the only one he could feel was his opponent, standing over the other side of the net, the same cocky grin still on his face and the customary cap pulled low over his eyes.

As they shook hand at the net, Ryoma's mouth curved into a smirk as he whispered

'I'm taking this one buchou'

Tezuka didn't remind his that he wasn't buchou, that they were equals now. Instead he replied with an emotionless

'Ah'.

This was what he'd been aiming for. What they'd both been aiming for.

The same flawless, imperfectly, life filled game with Tezuka that had driven Ryoma to work harder and faster, to win more and more, to be equals and to play together for always. The need to not have to prove anything anymore because Tezuka already knew.

It was his final.

His win

His...his...his life.

Everything in tennis started with love and long after the match had finished, it ended with love as well.

Love was hitting every un-returnable ball back across the net. Love was pushing him every day. Love was tennis and tennis was everything.

The winning shot was spectacular.

Later, when the match was over and the world number one and the newly reinstated world number two were lying side by side exhausted on a generic hotel bed, Tezuka turned to Ryoma and asked, quietly, how he came up with that shot. Tired as he was, Ryoma raised his head to rest it on the elder's chest and lazily smirked up at Tezuka.

'I hit it with your ball Buchou...'

And Tezuka really didn't mind losing. Well not really. He'll win the next one anyway.

Xxx

_Hope you enjoyed this (very late) update_

_Jyra_

_x_


	7. Never Give Up

_**Never give up**_

_By: Jyra _

_Disclaimer: Do not own Prince of Tennis. If I did, I wouldn't be writing this. Instead I'd be laughing about how I've created one of the best mangas in the world…_

Said I'd update quickly! This one is for Monte Carlo and is based off the second round match between Safin and Hewitt. The commentary on Sky Sports was really interesting. Basically they were saying that although Hewitt may not be the most naturally talented player, he has a brilliant tennis brain that can outfox his opponents. And that made me think of Inui! So here it is...

Oh, and there is more cute pillar fluff at the end because I really couldn't help myself and the last couple of chapters have been way too serious and I needed to lighten the mood!

Note: At the time of publishing this, Nadal is leading 5 games to 1 in the third set of the final against Djokovik. By the time you read this, hopefully Rafa will have won!

.Pillar pair.

_.X._

The match was not fun.

Everything was wrong. The sun was blistering down on the red clay courts, his favourite racket strings had snapped and the linesmen were obviously conspiring against him. If anyone though Ryoma had gone into brat mood at this moment, he'd be the first one to agree.

It was, Ryoma told himself, as his serve was returned, not his fault. It was his opponent's fault. Obviously. An opponent he should have easily beaten by now, an opponent he had beaten when he was 12 years old and an opponent with not even half of his tennis skills.

Yet the first set had still gone to tie break and Ryoma was losing 6:3. One more point and Lleyton Hewitt would take the first serve and Ryoma would be forced to play another two sets to secure his place in the third round of the Monte Carlo Masters.

Which was so not what he wanted.

What he wanted was a ponta, Karapin and a game with an opponent who didn't remind him of Inui.

'_I wouldn't call Hewitt and exceptionality talented player but you have to admit, he has one of the best tennis brains in the game'_

'_So would you say Echizen is the more talented of the two?'_

'_If we can put it down to something as simple as talent, undoubtedly yes.'_

The commentary Ryoma could faintly hear was starting to annoy him. Probably because it reminding him that he should not be facing a set point.

Taking a swing at the ball as it bounced towards him, he hit it straight down the line. Or at least he would have had the ball not ended up in the net.

'_Well that's what I'd call a surprise. Echizen Ryoma loses the first set on an unforced error'_

'_But there is still another two sets to be played and you've got to remember this is Echizen Ryoma, that guy can turn a match around when he wants to and he's got a good record on clay. In fact I'd say in his half of the draw, the only guy who can match him is Nadal.'_

'_He definitely came into this match the favourite. Their head to head record is directly in Echizen's favour and you can' forget that this is the guy who beat Hewitt when he was world number one aged 12. But if you ask me, it looks like he is having trouble coping with Hewitt's play style.'_

Inwardly Ryoma was sulking. He was in an even worse mood. A win was wanted. No, a win was needed and he would have to find away to overcome this so called 'tennis brain'. Obviously just playing was not enough. He would have to find another way around. The ball girl handed him his bottle of water, which Ryoma took. Surprisingly, he felt a piece of paper stuck to the bottle. Glancing down, he realised it was a small piece of note paper, folded over twice. Opening it, Ryoma smirked, before refolding and placing the paper into his tennis bag.

Two sets later and Echizen Ryoma walked off the court victorious.

'_What a match! What a match'_

'_Now that was the tennis you want to see played every day. Ryoma Echizen seemed like a different player after that first set. He held back in the first set and the momentum seemed with Hewitt but matches like that are what tennis is all about.'_

'_You could see the distance, and not just in terms of rankings, between the two players. Hewitt put up a good fight but he's just not at his best anymore.'_

'_Even at his best, he'd of had a hard time winning that match. If Echizen continues to play like that, he'll be looking at his first final of the clay court season. He might honestly be the best player in the world at the moment. A good season could leave us with a new world number one.'_

'_I don't know about that. He's just reclaimed the number two position and there is a good distance between him and Tezuka. Unless Tezuka had a really bad run, I think it will be another couple of years before Echizen is able to overtake him. And you're got to remember, Tezuka is a couple of years older than Echizen anyway. The boy has time on his side.'_

Unseen to both the commentators, poking out the top of Echizen Ryoma's tennis bag was a white slip of paper. If the camera had zoomed in, it would have picked up two words, written in Japanese.

**Zettai makeruna**

_Never give up_

XXX

**Omake:**

'Ryoma.'

'Ryoma...'

'Echizen!'

'I've got ponta...'

'I'm holding Karapin hostage.'

'I'll pull out of the tournament.'

Finally Echizen Ryoma stopped pretending to be asleep on the white lounger on the private beach where he was currently relaxing after the game. Rolling over onto one side and removing the dark sunglasses, he started up into the face of a glowering Tezuka.

'Buchou...?'

'Echizen. Ankle now.'

Signing, loudly to make sure Tezuka heard, Ryoma propped himself up and listed up his left foot.

'See? Nothing. I'm fine.'

Tezuka's face remained in a scowl, his arms crossed across his chest.

'You were limping'

He spoke sharply but Ryoma could hear the concealed concern behind his words. Smiling to himself, Ryoma grabbed one of Tezuka's hands, pulling him down onto the sun lounger with him.

'Maybe a massage would help...?'

Tezuka allowed himself to be pulled down but still remained scowling.

'And I'll get the therapist to check it when we get back.'

Tezuka's face relaxed a little.

'And I won't tread on it until my next match.'

Finally Tezuka seemed happy (not that his facial expression changes) and allowed Ryoma to move himself so he was practically on top of him. As the boy got comfortable, he felt Ryoma whisper in his ear.

'Which means you're going to have to carry me back to the hotel.'

X

_Just a note: The Japanese I used for the words 'never give up' is probably wrong. I don't speak Japanese so I had to trust Google...sorry!_


	8. Rain Delay

_Rain Delay_

_By: Jyra _

_Disclaimer: Do not own Prince of Tennis. If I did, I wouldn't be writing this. Instead I'd be laughing about how I've created one of the best mangas in the world…_

Written for Rome. Another clay court event and this chapter was written whilst watching Federer v. Djokovic and inspired due to the annoying rain delay. I have tried to capture here how Ryoma might feel inside but also how he might present himself to the outside world.

Oh and this chapter is slightly more suggestive than the others so I hope you like it!

Note: At the moment the match is a set each and on serve. I'm going Federer will win though!

.Pillar pair.

_.X._

The match had been coming along nicely.

Had being the key word here.

The top spin had been phenomenal, the drop shots had been accurate and the smashes had been spectacular. The crowd's hands were raw from clapping and on the Japanese sports channels, the commentators were going wild.

But, at 4 games to 3 with the first set in his favour and serving for the break, Echizen Ryoma felt a splash on his cheek. Followed by another and then another until in a matter of seconds the sky had gone from a beautiful clear blue to an angry, stormy grey that seemed intent on ruining the lives of tennis prodigies everywhere.

God, Ryoma decided, if there was one, hated him. Really hated him.

As the officials gestured for the covers to be rolled across the red clay, Ryoma and his opponent, the word number 14th from Chile, were herded off the court and into the tunnel leading back to the changing rooms.

It was not fair.

Rain had a habit of winding Ryoma up. Mainly because it always decided to occur just when he was either really enjoying the match or had found a really good opponent to play against. Scowling to himself and pulling his cap over his face as to avoid the cameras that insisted on following him down the tunnel, he made his way back to the changing rooms with the intent drinking a can of ponta and sulking quietly to himself.

10 minutes later and he had finished the ponta. Bored, Ryoma took out the tennis ball that was still in his pocket and started to bounce it against the tiled floor.

15 minutes later and the ball had rolled over to the other side of the room and Ryoma really couldn't be bothered to collect it.

17 and a half minutes later and he sent his manager away to find out exactly how long he'd be sitting here for.

25 minutes later and the manager reappeared, nervously clutching another can of ponta as a peace offering and with the news that the rain was somewhat heavier.

35 minutes later and his coach appeared wanting to start a warm down due to the fact that added to the rain was now lighting.

55 minutes later, the manager and coach both scared off, and Tezuka arrived to take him back to the hotel room.

'Is there a tropical storm now?'

Ryoma had asked sarcastically, only to receive Tezuka's back in response. Trailing after the older pro, Ryoma satisfied himself with glaring at every window he saw where indeed it did look like there may not be any play for the rest of the day.

Stupid rain.

XXX

'Ryoma'

Ryoma didn't respond. Instead he sunk further into the bath, immersing himself completely in the hot water, taking the pain away from his...

'Ryoma, we're leaving in half an hour.'

Sighing, Ryoma pulled himself put the deep tub. Tezuka liked to be punctual and as much as it amused Ryoma wind his partner up by purposely making him 5 minutes late to whatever appointment they had to attend, Tezuka had played a hard game against Federer today, was exhausted and not in the mood for that this evening.

The television was playing the highlights from today's tournament, the presenter speaking fast Italian that neither Tezuka nor Ryoma could completely understand. Perching on the bed next to an already dressed Tezuka, Ryoma slipped his arms into the shirt when his own face came onto the screen.

'_How do you deal with the rain delays?'_

_The onscreen voice asked in Italian and Ryoma heard his television self reply with a bored expression on his face._

'_Just keep waiting.'_

_The interviewer, not fazed by the shortness of the answer had pressed on._

'_Do you allow it to effect you?'_

'_As a professional player you can't afford to do that.'_

Onscreen Ryoma had responded, before the camera had cut to Tezuka's semi final.

'Maybe you should follow your own advice'

The real Tezuka, sitting next to him, attempted to frown at the younger boy but Ryoma could see a small hint of a smile in his face.

Deciding Tezuka's words did not merit a verbal answer; Ryoma lent up and kissed the other pro. Maybe he could still make Tezuka late...

A couple of minutes later and Ryoma felt the shirt buttons he'd just done up being undone and a hand slipping under the shirt...

Half an hour later and Tezuka was wondering how he allowed himself to be caught so off guard.

'Ryoma we're late.'

He spoke sharply to the boy who was now looking slightly worse for wear.

'Buchou can help me get dressed then seeing as he was the one...'

Tezuka wondered where he'd left the aspirin but obliged all the same as he carefully buttoned up the shirt of the grinning boy. If only he hadn't got so careless, they wouldn't be late for...

'So who are we actually meeting?'

Ryoma asked, breaking Tezuka away from mentally assigning himself laps.

'Fuji.'

Ryoma sighed. Somehow, Fuji always did seem synonymous with rain

_X_

_Only two left now! And then the end of this fic..._


	9. Zero Hour

_Zero Hour_

_By: Jyra _

_Disclaimer: Do not own Prince of Tennis. If I did, I wouldn't be writing this. Instead I'd be laughing about how I've created one of the best mangas in the world…_

The last event in the build up to Roland Garros- Mutua Madrileña Madrid. Anyway, this one doesn't actually focus on tennis. It takes place in Barcelona, which isn't that near Madrid but I decided a little artistic licensing was allowed in the build up for the last chapter which will be published next week when Roland Garros has finished. I am sorry for the delay but exams and everything got in the way. Anyway, enjoy!

.Pillar pair.

_.X._

¿Que desean tomar, por favour?

Ryoma stared blankly at the waiter who had just approached their table and continued to sip slowly on his coke (a poor substitute for ponta but Tezuka had firmly put his foot down to carting cans of the stuff around Barcelona).

It was Tezuka who picked up the menu and answered the waiter in slow Spanish, carefully pronouncing each word. Ordering three dishes from the tapas selection, he handed the menu to Ryoma who till then hadn't bothered to look.

Taking the menu from the other's hand, Ryoma stopped examining the interesting shaped ice cube in his drink and glanced over the food on offer. It really was too hot to be bothering with…

And then took a second glance.

And then a third.

Actually, Ryoma decided, the tapas selection looked good. Why hadn't he tried this before? Using the English that was written underneath the Spanish descriptions, he pointed to a dish as Tezuka related the order to the waiter. And then another. And then another. And a fourth and then a…

Ryoma only stopped when he realised that Tezuka was frowning at him more than usual and that the waiter had started to write on a second sheet from his pad. Ordering one final dish, much to Tezuka's not so obviously annoyance, Ryoma settled back down in his seat. This was going to be a good meal. Now if only Tezuka hadn't refused to carry around that ponta…

Tezuka liked Spain. Yes the heat could be somewhat oppressive but the architecture was beautiful. He was glad that they had been able to get a couple of days off after the Madrid Masters to come down and see Barcelona and the sites that came with it.

Like Gaudi's cathedral. The graceful black towers rising up from a…

'Buchou, it's an ugly half finish church.'

Tezuka's thoughts were interrupted by his travelling companion who obviously didn't share Tezuka's appreciation for the Spanish landmark.

'Ah'

Was Tezuka's only reply as he turned his attention back to the guide book (helpfully in Japanese). Inwardly, he wondered if Ryoma would bother spending a couple of hours in a cathedral for anyone else. Karupin probably but then Karupin, as far as Tezuka was aware, had never asked anything of Ryoma apart from food and toys. And then, before he turned into a sappy romantic fool, Tezuka swiftly turned his attention to a partially interesting section of the guide book.)

A while later the two found themselves walking along Barcelona beach, the air cooler as the time reached early afternoon. Ryoma, despite still insisting the cathedral had been an 'ugly half finished church', had been caught several times by Tezuka deeply engrossed in the information points dotted around the site, though out of pride had refused Tezuka's offer of the guide book.

'Buchou…'

Ryoma spoke, staring straight ahead. Tezuka inclined his head to show he was listening.

'I'm going to take the number one spot at Roland Garros.'

Again, Tezuka didn't speak for a while. It was true that Tezuka's exit from Madrid in the second round and Ryoma's win of the tournament did mean that a win at Roland Garros would put Ryoma top of the APT tour race.

'I'm going to play you in the final buchou.'

It was on the tip of Tezuka's tongue to tell Ryoma to not be so presumptuous. That it wasn't guaranteed that either of them would make it to the finals. Instead he added

'But the mishit you made on your left side in the Madrid final would not be permissible.'

Ryoma half smiled, half smirked as he looked up at the elder of the two and Tezuka had a sudden desire to take hold of his hand.

'Don't worry buchou. I'm going to play my best game.'

And then Tezuka did reach out and take his hand and when Ryoma laced their fingered together, Tezuka could help but pull the other boy into his arms and kiss him there and then, despite being in the middle of one of the world's busiest cities and both internationally recognised sports stars.

But what mattered but tennis?

_**Penultimate chapter! If you've been reading the last three or four carefully, you can probably guess what is going to happen in the last chapter! If you can't then I'll leave it as a surprise. The bit with the tapas was written because in the manga, Ryoma always seems to be a bit of a pig when the regulars go for sushi so I thought he might be the same with tapas! And that I had really good tapas in Barcelona!**_


End file.
